Aruba: Perspectives

We’ve had a few days now to settle into our location in  downtown Oranjestad. As a disclaimer, Aruba is better suited for Julia than me. There are lots of beautiful beaches, and she is happy laying out in the sun all day. For me, it’s been more challenging.

Our hostess told us on the first day that the sun is very “hard” here, and we frequently joke about that descriptive. The sun is very intense, especially for a paleface like me. Each day, I put on my hat and slather up with sunscreen. I try to find shade where I can during the middle of the day. Often, that’s a beachside bar, where I’ll sip the local brews, which are about $4 for shorties (7 ounces).  Cocktails start at $10. Yes, food and beverages here are very expensive.

Aruba’s flagship Pilsner 

In fact, everything is pretty expensive here. On the plus side, people here seem to be better off than anywhere we’ve been in the Caribbean or Mexico. Generally, it’s a very clean country. We haven’t seen any military presence. Police presence is barely visible. We haven’t been approached by panhandlers or venders. You have to look hard to see any signs of poverty. 

The cruise terminal, about a twenty minute walk from our room, is adjacent to the Renaissance Hotel. Both are a focal point on the downtown waterfront. Every day, a big cruise ship disgorges its people to descend on the trinket shops and luxury stores. 

The people in the rooms above the casino don’t have to walk far from the Gucci or Rolex stores below to get to a water taxi that will spirit them away to Renaissance’s private island, stocked with flamingos which were imported from Venezuela. 

With that backdrop, we create our own realities with long walks along the beaches, local bus rides around the island, and strolls through the historical sites.

Aruba has been occupied by several European powers over the years, starting in the late 1400’s. It won a nickname as the useless island because its early exploiters found no gold or silver. It still maintains a relationship with the Kingdom of the Netherlands but won its independence during the 1980’s. These gentlemen below were instrumental in that struggle.  Today, Aruba, with tourism as its main pillar, is known as “one happy island.”

In the mornings, we”ve been making our own breakfast from Aruban eggs and plantains. In the late afternoons, we eat combined lunch/dinner, usually some kind of seafood. The grouper and shrimp are amazing. We’ve been disappointed by some of the other local fish, which has been oily and strong tasting.

Fish tacos at Lucy’s Retired Surfer Bar

My favorite time of day is sunset. Sometimes, the clouds don’t cooperate for photos, but the cooler temperatures, soft light, and gentle breezes are a great way to end the day.

Long Travel Day

We started at 4 a.m. with snow steadily falling. Our first destination was Chicago O’hare Airport.  Driving conditions were not ideal with temperatures staying right at the freezing mark. Precipitation moved from snow to rain to freezing rain.

Long lines through security and getting singled out for a full pat down search added to my stress levels. As it turned out, our flight was delayed anyway so we had plenty of time. The five hour flight was smooth and relaxing. I finished “Neon Rain”, a James Lee Burke novel about a New Orleans cop. There are a bunch in the series, and I will be reading more. It’s gritty, challenging and fun.

We landed in Aruba with sunny skies and 83 degrees. Our Airbnb is small and modest, but we don’t plan on spending much time in the room. Tonight we ate at Pincho’s, the restaurant on the pier in the photo below. Julia had tasty grouper, and I had six huge grilled shrimp. Tonight we’re winding down with a five year old bottle of Cuban sipping rum, which we purchased at the duty free store. Life is good.

Aruba is just 17 miles off the coast of Venezuela and is technically part of South America. It has Dutch origins, but the population seems to be a true melting pot.

In the Wintertime

I was a big Steve Miller Band fan when I was in high school.  Songs like "The Joker" were popular at that time.  He was born in Milwaukee and attended the University of Wisconsin. He had another song, "Winter Time," that always sent a chill down my spine.

"In the winter time
When all the leaves are brown
And the wind blows so chill
And the birds have all flown for the summer
I'm callin', hear me callin', hear me callin'."

I had mixed feelings about winter as a kid living in the city.   We spent time outside, but not really in nature.  Winter in the city is different.  Entertainment often involved snowball fights.  Some of the bolder kids learned to loft snowballs towards passing cars or even at streetlights.  

One time, when I was in the eighth grade and on my way to school, a driver erroneously believed that we had thrown a snowball at his car.  He came careening around the corner, pulling across the center line to the curb, where I was standing with friends.  He rolled down the window and pointed a gun at us.  His girlfriend urged him to put the gun away, and he did, driving away.  We never said a word to anybody about that. 

In the country, winter is dead quiet.  I'll take Callie outside just before bedtime and listen to the sound of nothing.  If we're lucky, we hear an owl hooting or coyotes yipping in the distance.  

 In the prairie above the Lodi Marsh, the natural world opens up.  There are no distractions.

This is the last week of winter break.  Allie will be heading back to Milwaukee to begin her job hunt.  I've enjoyed her company and appreciate her willingness to care-give for Justin, while he's been home.

I turned 59 this past week.  We celebrated with a minced lamb dinner at my favorite new Middle Eastern restaurant in Sun Prairie.  When you're growing up, you never imagine yourself as 59 years old.  It kind of sneaks up on you.  

They say that you are as young as you feel.  Most days, I feel pretty young.  Callie helps.

The Weather Outside is Frightful

A friend of mine asked me this week if I was getting tired of hiking the same old trails in my area.  I don't really get tired of hiking Ice Age Trail segments.  As the weather and seasons change, so does the trail.  There are always new things to see and experience on the same paths through the woods or prairie. 

Having said that, there are things that get in the way of my enjoyment of local trails.  Today, it was the weather. We've had a stretch of very cold weather, resulting in frozen ground.  When it started raining today at 33 degrees, the rain immediately froze when it hit the colder ground. By the end of today's walk, Everything was wet, slippery, and frozen at the same time.  Not much fun.

Yesterday was Muscle Clinic Day.  Except for a couple of years when Julia volunteered to take my place, I've accompanied my son Justin through this annual gauntlet of health care providers and tests since he's been about four. 

In the morning, he had a pulmonary function test, spine x-ray, echo cardiogram, and vein-poking (blood tests).  In the afternoon, we saw multiple specialists in the areas of pulmonary, physiatry, cardiology, orthopedics, neurology, neuropsychology, occupational therapy, physical therapy, nutrition, education, respiratory therapy, social work and power wheelchairs.  Whew, it was a long day for everyone. 

In general, Justin stays in a room, and the doctors individually come to him. In theory, it's a great idea.  In practice, it sometimes doesn't work that way.  We sat alone for an hour at one point because one doctor didn't tell the next doctor that the room was available.  They all assumed that Justin was busy. At another point, there were at least six different specialists in the room while a tech took an EKG and installed a Holter (heart) monitor).  It was a little bit crazy, and we were relieved to be done. 

You might wonder why Justin needs all of these services.  There are times I wonder why also.  There is no cure for Duchenne's muscular dystrophy.  The only effective treatment is a high daily dose of prednisone or deflazacort which delays the progression of the disease, which is a breakdown of all muscle tissue.  Dystrophin is the glue that holds muscle fibers together, and his body doesn't produce dystrophin, due to a genetic deletion or error.  This adversely affects just about every major system in your body, which is why he sees all of those specialists.

There have been drugs and gene therapies which offered promise of a cure or partial cure, but none of these have panned out.  So Justin takes it day by day and mostly does his part to optimize a difficult but still rewarding life. He maintained his grade point last semester and will be back at college again in another couple of weeks.

If Justin does well with math and science requirements this spring, he plans to apply for a disabled-friendly summer school course that takes place in Yellowstone National Park.  There are a lot of hurdles to clear, but there is a path forward, as they say.  The first step is to successfully complete his coursework.  

New Year: Optimization

My wife Julia turned 59 in December.  In some ways, she's in better shape now than she was in her 20's.  This year she has resolved to enter six races to celebrate her 60th year.

Julia has been listening to a podcast series about preparing for retirement.  One of the exercises is to pick a word theme for each year.  Julia has picked "transition."  I spent about two seconds on the idea and picked optimization, which is defined as "the action of making the best or most effective use of a situation or resource."  In retrospect, I may have been hasty; my word seems harder.  

This morning, we hiked up Gibraltar Rock to celebrate the new year.  There is an organized hike this afternoon.  There will be hot chocolate and cookies.  Several hundred people (and many dogs) are likely to attend, so we beat the rush.  We saw only three other hikers and no dogs.  That's a good start for optimization. 

Christmas in Lodi, Wisconsin

After several weeks of weirdly warm temperatures, including a 50 degree Christmas, winter has returned, delivering a fresh coat of white.  Today, we saw a winter wonderland. 

Goodbye 2019.  Hello 2020.